I Became a Ruined Character in a Dark Fantasy

Chapter 281

Ian’s eyes narrowed slightly.

As Philip hesitated and turned back, Ian, who naturally slowed his steps, spoke, "Who is it?"

"Well... they haven’t revealed their identity," Fael replied, still frowning.

He stopped, as if waiting for Ian to respond, and added, "It seems to be a lady from a noble family. A knight accompanied her and even mentioned your name, so they had no choice but to let her in."

"A lady... you say?" Philip tilted his head, glancing back at Ian, and added, "Do you know anyone who fits that description?"

"Not at all," Ian replied immediately, his eyes narrowing further.

Still, the sense that this visitor was far from welcome lingered. That they had located Ian, whose whereabouts were mostly unknown to many, along with their failure to disclose their identity, provided ample ground for that suspicion.

As memories of the game and strategy guides flashed through Ian's mind, Elia spoke up, blinking her eyes. "Who could it be? It must be someone who knows you're here."

Philip, still thinking it over, responded after a moment of contemplation. "Since you didn’t reveal your identity at the Steel Vault, maybe it’s someone from Count Thaddeus or someone who heard about you from merchants of the alliance."

"There’s too little time for anyone to follow hearing the alliance members’ stories," Fael remarked, walking just behind Ian as they moved forward.

"It must be someone who came from Basmut. There’s no one else who could know your whereabouts besides them."

"There is. Aside from them." Ian muttered to himself at that moment. His companions’ gazes shifted to him, but Ian didn’t elaborate, only resuming his usual walking pace.

Elia let out a small gasp of realization just after. "You’re talking about the royal family or the church, aren’t you? They must have received the report from the Count."

"But... Isn’t it too early for someone from the royal family or the church to arrive? It’s been less than five days since the Count’s report," Philip added.

Fael, stroking his mustache, murmured thoughtfully, "They may have used a magical communication scroll or a messenger hawk to contact a nearby noble. Those are expensive methods, but they’re used in urgent situations. They might want to conduct a follow-up investigation on what happened in Basmut."

... That’s the best-case scenario, Ian muttered internally.

Ian mused inwardly. Neither the Order nor the royal family was welcome. Anyway, it had always been a matter of choosing between the lesser of two evils. Of course, the least desired outcome was almost certainly not in play. It was still too early for that, and this wasn’t the capital.

... Anyway, I'd rather it be neither.

Ian clicked his tongue briefly as he looked beyond the wide-open gates. A carriage, one he didn't recognize, was blocking the others as it parked. Thanks to that, the side of the carriage was clearly visible—a large, luxurious one with a sturdy-looking roof and walls.

"It looks slightly better than ours. Just slightly," Philip muttered in a somewhat dissatisfied tone.

Ian had already shifted his gaze elsewhere. Outside the mansion, groups of people had gathered. They were workers and guards from the merchant guild.

Fael, tilting his head in confusion, gestured. A few guards hurried over. Fael motioned for them to take Ian’s bottle of wine and handed over his own as well, asking, "Why is everyone out here?" n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

"The knight requested everyone to leave the mansion. He said no one should overhear their conversation with the Agent of the Saint."

One of the guards, who had just taken Philip’s wine bottle, answered, causing Fael to frown.

"And where are these guests?"

"They’re in the dining hall. They refused food, so we only served them tea."

"Tea, not wine... Hmm..."

As they continued walking without stopping at the front door, Ian clicked his tongue once more. The bad feeling was gradually getting stronger.

No way... It’s too soon for that to happen, right?

As he mused to himself, Philip leaned in and whispered, "Looks like they would want a private meeting with you alone."

"Then go upstairs." Ian’s indifferent response drew a short, amused laugh from Philip.

"How can I do that when we don’t even know their intentions? I was only going to tell you not to worry about Elia, no matter how bad things get. I’ll protect her."

Ian thought to himself how reassuring Philip sounded, and for the first time in a while, let out a low, genuine laugh.

It wasn’t sarcasm; he was genuinely impressed. The once naïve fool had become someone he could count on.

"Wouldn't you need my help?" Elia quickly added.

While Philip pulled up his visor to cover his face, Ian grasped the doorknob with a smile. "Enough of that. You just want to talk in secret, don't you?"

As it caught, Elia pursed her lips, while Ian, who had opened the door, stepped into the antechamber. Fael, who had instructed the guards to keep the bottles safe, hurriedly followed behind them.

In the meantime, Ian, who had passed through the antechamber, was turning into the hallway leading to the dining room. It was right after that when he stopped.

In the middle of the hallway, two men stood as if guarding the entrance to the dining hall. Ian met their gaze as they turned to face the group. One was an older man, clearly of the Empire, clad in full plate armor that was unmistakably enchanted. The other, a younger man with a rather stiff demeanor, wore a mix of chain mail and plate.

They were a typical knight and squire, but both were unfamiliar faces. These uninvited guests were no acquaintances. The older man with the strong features looked directly at Ian. Their eyes met briefly before the man parted his lips to speak.

"Are you Sir Ian Hope?"

His voice was rich and courteous.

Ian, without averting his gaze, replied, "Indeed I am. And who might you be?"

The knight, who raised an arm to stop the young man from stepping forward, placed a hand on his chest and kneeled on one knee.

"I am Phaden, a knight serving Lu Solar and Tir En. It's an honor to meet you, Agent of the Saint."

Despite his polite tone, his introduction left out many details. Even though he knew Ian was the Agent of the Platinum Dragon, he had kept it brief.

"Nice to meet you, Sir Phaden." Ian nodded indifferently.

After all, introductions weren't what mattered right now.

"So, for what reason have you come to see me?"

"It is not I who has business with you, but Lady Ingrid of House Sonnier. I am merely accompanying her as her guard."

"Sonnier...?"

As Ian tilted his head in curiosity, Fael drew closer behind him and whispered, low enough for only Ian to hear, "A family from the capital. They’re also distant relatives of the royal family."

Nodding slightly, Ian added, "Then I should rephrase the question. Why has the lady come to see me?"

"I’m afraid that’s not something I can answer. She is waiting inside; perhaps it would be best for you to speak with her directly."

"Very well, let’s go."

What’s the point of having guards if that’s all they are doing?

Thinking, Ian began walking again. It was then that Phaden extended a hand in front of him.

"We ask that only the Agent of the Saint enter."

Ian’s eyes narrowed slightly as he stopped once again.

So that’s why they were standing guard.

"You ask a lot, considering you have explained nothing properly."

At Ian’s cold voice, Phaden’s eyes widened slightly.

"Let me make something clear. I couldn’t care less why you came to find me. I’m only agreeing to meet because you sought me out. But if you try playing the host in someone else’s house one more time, you’ll be leaving without a chance to explain."

Ian, unfazed, continued speaking as he briefly stared at Phaden with darkened eyes and added, "Whether dead or alive."

"Mmm..." Phaden let out a low hum.

Unlike the squire behind him, whose gaze had turned cold, Phaden seemed more troubled than angry. It seemed he hadn't expected the Agent of the Platinum Dragon to react this way.

"You're right, so step aside, Sir."

It was then that a calm woman's voice resonated. It came from beyond the open door of the dining room behind Phaden.

Without adding another word, Phaden and the squire stepped aside. At nearly the same moment, a woman cloaked in gray with her hood pulled low stepped out.

The cloak covered her completely, making it difficult to determine her exact shape, but she seemed tall and slim. One thing was certain—she wasn’t wearing armor beneath the cloak.

The woman stopped at a reasonable distance from Ian and, as she removed her hood, her glossy brown hair cascaded down, revealing her pale face and blue eyes.

"I apologize for the rudeness, Agent of the Saint," the woman said, bowing politely.

However, Ian furrowed his brows the moment he recognized her face. He realized that the situation he had least wanted and had deemed too early to happen was now unfolding before him.

I knew I would face backlash someday... But I never imagined it to be today.

A near-certain intuition crossed his mind: it had to have been because of that long-winded introduction. Reputation and renown were systems that had existed even in games. They had had little influence but had affected various aspects, including quests.

Now that it was a reality, their influence was undoubtedly greater than before. After all, there had been several times where he had gotten out of situations through reputation or authority. These were things that would have been impossible in a game.

The woman, who had been watching Ian's furrowed brows for a moment, widened her eyes in slight surprise.

Of course, it was only for a moment. She quickly regained her composure and nonchalantly added,

"In fact, there’s another matter I must apologize for. I originally intended to mention it once we were alone. My real name is not Ingrid. It was my fault that Sir Phaden was unable to clarify certain details."

"My... my lady... saying such things here..." Phaden, standing behind her, hastily cut in, looking troubled.

Ingrid turned to him. "It's alright. I trust those who are with the Agent of the Saint. Besides... I believe the Agent of the Saint already knows."

As Phaden's eyes widened, she continued, "Sir, please introduce me again. Briefly and quietly this time."

"... Understood." Phaden nodded and stepped forward beside her.

The gazes of the bewildered group, alternating between Ian and the lady, were now focused on him.

In a lowered voice, Phaden spoke. "Allow me to formally introduce her. A follower of Lu Solar, a follower of Lu Entre, the brightest star of the Imperial palace—"

Fael's eyes grew wide, and from behind Philip's face mask came a surprised murmur.

"—The one who peers into the crossroads. Her Highness, Seras Astrea, the second daughter of the most revered and dignified Emperor."

Phaden paused briefly, glancing at the group before adding with a solemn expression, "Kneel and pay your respects."

"L-Long live His Majesty... May the Empire have eternal glory and prosperity...," muttering as if in a daze, Fael dropped to the floor in a deep bow.

Philip and Elia also kneeled on one knee. Elia seemed more curious than surprised, while Philip appeared to be similarly unfazed.

Ian, his expression now back to its usual neutral state, simply bent one knee briefly and greeted her politely. He was not affected by meeting a princess. His only surprise had been that this situation had unfolded sooner than he had expected.

Phaden, observing Ian still standing, furrowed his brows slightly. "Is that what you call showing proper respect, Agent of the Saint?"

"... It is enough." Seras was the one who spoke before Ian could.

Without taking her eyes off him, she added, "Unless you're in front of His Majesty the Emperor or His Holiness the Pope, there's no need to kneel before me. If anything... I should be the one doing that."

"No need. I don't wish for that," Ian replied, his tone as indifferent as his expression.

"You are gracious. Thank you." Seras answered politely, her eyes narrowing into a smile as she continued, "And, as I thought, you aren’t surprised at all. May I ask how you figured it out?"

Ian shrugged lightly. "You resemble someone I’ve met before."

"Someone you’ve met before...?"

"From the Temple of the Brazier."

"Ah...!" A sigh of realization escaped Seras, and her face lit up with a relieved smile.

"That makes sense. You’ve met my aunt. I’ve heard stories about how you carried a new flame to the Temple of the Brazier, but I hadn’t made that connection. I’m often told that I resemble her."

She didn’t look old enough to be called an aunt. The age gap doesn’t seem that big, Ian thought to himself, then gave a slight nod.

After all, the Saint of the Brazier was an Apostle of the Flaming Goddess. Divine blessings often strengthened human bodies, so it wasn’t strange if they aged slower.

"Oh dear, I’ve made you all uncomfortable for too long out of curiosity. Please, everyone, rise. The floor is cold," Seras hastily added with an exaggerated expression of surprise.

Phillip, Fael, and Elia all stood up one after the other. Fael still looked bewildered by the situation, while Elia’s expression remained as curious as before. Her different-colored eyes sparkled as she looked between Ian and Seras. She was probably wondering why a princess of the Empire had come to see the Agent of the Platinum Dragon.

Seras smiled faintly as she met Ian’s gaze again. "As a follower of the Flaming Goddess, let me once again express my gratitude, though belatedly, Agent of the Saint. For giving me a signal that allowed me to realize. Had it not been for that, I would have remained embarrassed for much longer."

Although Ian hadn’t intentionally given her any signal, he didn’t correct her. Instead, he said something else.

"You’ve changed your eye and hair color with magic, haven’t you?"

"Indeed."

Beneath Seras's cloak, something stirred. She clasped her hands together, and in the next moment, her blue eyes shifted to a deep red, as if paint had spread through them. Her brown hair also transformed into a radiant golden hue.

Fael let out a low sigh, seemingly now convinced she truly was a princess.

... I didn’t mean to ask you to show me, though.

Ian thought to himself indifferently as he quietly observed Seras. He already knew what she was going to say next, but now that she had revealed her identity, he couldn’t just send her away. It was better to make use of the situation—just as he always had, in ways that wouldn’t have been possible in a game.

And figure out why this happened so quickly.

At that moment, Seras’s eyes and hair reverted to blue and brown, and her smile deepened.

"Now then... shall we continue the rest of our conversation inside?"

"Alright, let’s do that," Ian replied, feigning reluctance. He nodded his head slightly to the side and added, "I’ll be taking my companions in with me as well. I’d rather not have to explain everything that happened inside."